


Matters of the Heart and Mind

by Justagirlwithideas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, F/M, Friendship, Marauders, Marauders' Era, Mystery, Relationship(s), Romance, Slow Build, jily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justagirlwithideas/pseuds/Justagirlwithideas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lily Evans and James Potter find themselves in the middle of a twisted Death Eater plot threatening Hogwarts life, they are doomed to realize that the difference between love and hate is dangerously thin. (It's a romance, of course, as all the greatest stories are, about a boy who chased and a girl who ran). A Jily fic. Originally posted on my fanfiction account.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Hey guys. I finally got around to making an Ao3 account, so I thought I'd break it in with a fic I've been working on for a while on my fanfiction account. You'll find that parts of the writing will resemble The Book Thief. These elements are Zusak-inspired, so all credit goes to him there. And, of course, credit to Jo Ro for Harry Potter as a whole. Without further ado...

Matters of the Heart and Mind

Prologue

" _Love me or hate me, both are in my favor. If you love me, I will always be in your heart; if you hate me, I will always be in your mind." –Unknown_

There was not much to be said about the Day of Firsts. The sky was not particularly bright, and the air was rather humid. The train broke down once. She had forgotten her red scarf, the once that made her cheeks appear rosy. He, of course, did not notice. He didn't notice  _her_ at all, really; it was the greasy companion that drew his hazel eyes over to the other end of the compartment, tugging his dark eyebrows up his forehead.

They made eye contact once. She was straightening her shoulders with all the dignity of a disparaging eleven year old, frostily notifying her cohort that the next compartment down might contain more preferable company. She looked away first. And he laughed when she left.

And that was that.

**An observation about fate:**

**It doesn't call much attention to itself.**

Lily Amelia Evans didn't call much attention to herself, either—no— her hair did all the work for her. Shining rivulets of red swished to and fro behind her shoulders. Reader, they were the loveliest locks you had ever seen. The grandest bit of all? Lily Amelia Evans didn't know it.

Her companion, however, certainly did. You remember him, don't you? The bloke from the train compartment? He was called was Severus Stanislav Snape, and he bore the name like a curse. The world simply called him Snape, but Lily was hardly the world. No, Lily Amelia Evans was something entirely different.

**A note about the Day of Firsts:**

**There were actually two days,**

**if you counted November 15** **th** **, 1971, too**

**(Like James Potter did).**

So let's skip ahead, reader, to that second fateful day: November 15th, 1971. For this is why you are here, are you not— to hear about the love story of Lily Amelia Evans and James Jonathan Potter? A fair warning: it is not what you expect. There are several years of denial, a good deal of tedious bantering, and a severe lack of kisses in the rain. But bear with me. I promise, it is a love story worth telling.

But where was I? November 15th, 1971.

Lily wasn't frightened of Rebecca Lee Rollin. The girl wore her scowl like Lily wore her favorite scarf: delicately. It played gently across her countenance, not marring her features but giving her face a sort of fierceness rarely found in a child.

And Lily admired it. She grabbed the bed post with one hand and swung her body around until she was nose to nose with her hostile roommate. "Come on, Bex," she grinned. "I know you like it."

"Nicknames are impractical," Rebecca Lee Rollin replied, folding a shirt on her bed. "I was given a name; why use another?"

"Because it creates a tie between the nicknamer and nicknamee. Displays affection, seals a bond."

"Right," "Bex" muttered, tugging on a stocking, "and what sort of bond could I possibly have with you— a girl I have known for about two months?"

Lily just smiled again.

**On Lily Amelia Evans:**

**She loved games, especially challenging ones.**

**And befriending the unfriendly**

**was the greatest game of all.**

This explained why Lily was in such a bright mood as she headed to the Great Hall, a reluctant but amused Bex at her side.

"You haveto meet Severus now," she insisted, orange curls bobbing as she scanned the corridor.

"The Slytherin boy?"

"Yes.  _Please_  reserve judgment until you get to know him. He's just a bit…"

"Creepy?"

"No, quiet," Lily snapped. "This is my friend you're talking about here, my best friend. Believe it or not, you two have a bit in common."

"You better not be referring to looks," Bex muttered, tugging a black tendril of hair nervously.

"Be nice," she said, stifling back a giggle. And then all the mirth was knocked out of her short frame.

Someone  _wasn't_  being nice to Severus, not at all. James Potter was leaning against the wall, one hand in his pocket, one hand wrapped around his wand— which was pointed directly at Sev.

"I was  _trying_  to ignore you, Snivellus, but you keep insisting on insulting me. All that's going to do is drag me down to your level."

"What are you going to do, hex me?" spat Snape. "Don't flatter yourself, you snot-nosed prick. That would take  _skill_. You think you're so talented, so  _funny_ and  _smart_ , but it's high time someone told you how idiotic you look, strutting about the castle like you own the place!"

"Sev, don't provoke him!" Lily shouted. She took a step towards the two, but Bex held her back.

"Don't do it, Lily. You'll only embarrass him," she said.

"What did you think?" Snape continued, scrunching his regrettably long nose in derision. "That you were  _special?_ Is that what your mum told you before you went to sleep each night, to keep you from pissing your bed? Well, let me tell you this, Potter, she was probably just as pompous and ugly as you are and—"

"How dare you!" Potter snarled, shoving Snape against the wall. "Insulting me is one thing, but if you insult my family I'll make you regret it." He turned to his friend, Sirius Black, who was watching the scene with crossed arms. "Sirius, what do you 'spose our friend Snivellus has got in his bag there?"

Potter snatched the pack off of Snape's shoulder and started rummaging through it lazily.

"What's this?" he asked, yanking a booklet out of the opening. "A  _diary?_ Where poor little Snivellus writes about her feelings?"

" _Give that back_ ," Snape growled. "Or I'll—"

"Go cry to your mummy?" Black crooned. He watched as Potter opened the journal, and Lily bit her lip, hard, because she knew what was inside.

" _Drawings_?" Potter hooted, incredulous. "Has no one told you that making pretty little pictures will not, in fact, make you pretty yourself?"

Snape's face was livid. He tried to slap the book, but Potter danced back. "Oh no, I'm nowhere near finished with this…"

Lily couldn't take it any longer. Yanking her arm out of Bex's grip, she marched up to the three and screamed with every bone in her small body, "Drop the book this very instant, Potter!"

"Oh look, Snivellus, your girlfriend's here to save your sorry, oily skin," Black crooned.

"I'm not his  _girlfriend_ ," Lily said, still seeing red. "But I am his friend. And I won't put up with this childish pettiness a second longer!"

"Not his girlfriend, huh?" Potter said softly, flipping a journal page ostentatiously. "Then Snivellus just has a bit of a freaky crush, then?"

He ripped out the page, revealing a large drawing of Lily's own freckled face. Lily remembered the day clearly. She had weaved together a crown of flowers with magic and set it in her hair, claiming she was the queen of the fairies in a bout of silliness. And Severus had done a careful job of capturing every petal just right as he sketched her portrait, as she had requested.

It had been a lingering summer day, the kind that seemed to meander aimlessly through the ceaseless sunny hours, the kind that you folded into a deep crevice of your heart to remember during a dark time.

It had been a precious memory, and now James Potter was parading down the corridor with it over his head, laughing and ridiculing what had once been unspeakably sweet.

Lily swallowed a sticky lump that was rising in her throat. "I  _hate_ you," she whispered, but loud enough for Potter to hear. His eyes widened a bit, which gave her a kind of sick satisfaction. "That's right! I  _loathe_ you, James Potter, now and forever! Don't talk to me, or Severus, ever again!"

"Have it your way, Cherrytop. I'll be finished with our friend in just a moment."

" _Cherrytop?"_  Lily said through clenched teeth.

"I thought you said nicknames sealed a bond," Bex deadpanned to her right.

"Not helping."

"Sorry."

Potter turned to the Snape, whose vein was now visible on his forehead. "You say I'm not talented enough to cast a spell, Snivellus? How I do love to prove people wrong."

He tore the remaining papers out of the notebook and thrust them into Black's hands. With a swish and flick of his wand, Potter enunciated, "Wingardium leviosa!"

The lovely sketches Lily had watched Severus labor over so meticulously soared out of Black's grasp, into the air, all across the corridor. A crowd of fellow first-years began to form now, as classes had just been let out, but Potter's concentration did not break. A dozen— two dozen— maybe three dozen drawings floated across the room, at least half of them picturing Lily. Lily frowning, Lily sighing, her head in her hands, her hands in the flowers, her eyes always somewhere else. And there were other sketches too— darker ones, of shrouded figures and shadows and snippets of night. She didn't understand. She had posed for one picture, only one…but Sev had made  _so many_. And then there were the others. Sev had never let her seen those, he kept those to himself. Now everyone could see them.

"Let them down, Potter!" she yelled, bunching her fists together.

"As you wish." And with a drop of his wand, all the papers went flying across the corridor, into the eager hands of the students waiting below.

"You  _drew_ these, Snape?" McKenzie Forbes snorted. "All of these? Does your little friend know you're in bloody love with her?"

They all laughed at that, not kindly but harshly. Lily's hands were shaking as she regarded Potter, who was still reveling in the rain of sketches falling through the air. She glanced about desperately for Sev, but he had disappeared, as he was so good at doing. There was only one thing to do then.

She approached Potter in three large strides and punched him as hard as she could in the face. He doubled back in shock, blood pouring from his nose, with disbelief and pain and— awe on his face, but if he cried out, Lily did not notice. All she heard was a dull roar in her ears.

Reader, remember this moment.

**The Second Day of Firsts:**

**The day Lily Amelia Evans fell in hate with James Jonathan Potter.**

**The day that James Jonathan Potter fell in love with Lily Amelia Evans.**

Puppy love, perhaps, but love nonetheless; that's how he would describe it in the years to come. A shameful day, but a necessary one, as it marks the beginning of our tale— a story of hate and love, mind and heart, and the faintest sprinkling of fate.

 


	2. The Tedium of Pursuit

Chapter 1

The Tedium of Pursuit

"Face it, Lils," Mary Emilee MacDonald whispered across Bex. "You fancy him."

Lily tentatively directed her glance to the other side of the library, where Ryan Oliver Lewis laughing with the rest of his Hufflepuff Quidditch team. "I dunno…" she said, trying to hide her blush from her perceptive friend, "he's a fifth year."

"And you're a fourth year. It hasn't stopped anyone in the past."

"We've talked, like, twice, Mary. I doubt he even remembers my name."

"I declare B.S."

"You do that," Lily muttered, dipping her feather in her inkwell. She blew a couple scraggly bangs out of her eyes. The History of Magic essay was as awful as promised, and more.

"I'm serious, Lily. He's looking over here right now."

The redhead nearly dropped her quill. "Right now?"

"Right now," Mary smirked.

"Still doubt he knows who I am."

"You know what?" Mary said, rising from her chair. "I'm going to test that theory."

"Mary!" Lily hissed. "Mary, get back here right now!"

She slumped back in her seat with a huff as her friend bisected the library, sweeping her light brown braid over her shoulder.

"She wouldn't."

"Honey," Bex sighed, "how long have we known our dear Mary now?"

Lily fought the urge to scream. "Okay. So I'm about to get humiliated out of this realm. It's not like I needed a love life, anyway."

It was, incidentally, at this exact moment that James Potter chose to appear on the scene. "What's up Chers? Rollin?" he said lightly, sliding off his bag as he slipped into Mary's now vacant seat.

"I told you that I don't respond to that nickname," Lily said, praying for patience in this dire hour.

"I think you just did."

"Well. Yes. I'm just saying, for future reference."

Potter messed with his already-messed-with hair before saying, "You know you like it."

"Don't tell me what I like. You don't know the first thing about me, Potter."

He rested his pale face in his hands.

For the record

James had a striking face,

All smooth angles and hard lines—

(Lily thought about this now, and hated herself for it).

"I know that you're too good for your friends," he said.

"Oi!" Bex smacked his shoulder.

"Present party excluded, Rollin."

"If you are referring to Severus Snape, Potter, then you might as well scoot that arrogant arse of yours out of that chair before I shove it off myself," Lily said, in the epitome of calmness. She was fine. She was calm, cool, capable, and competent. James Potter could not take that away from her.

"What do you see in the git, anyway?" Potter drawled, pushing back in his chair with his hands behind his head. "I mean, okay. So you were childhood best mates. I get it, honestly, I do. But now you're polar opposites. What exactly do you talk about when you're together?"

"How much we loathe you," Lily said in her most sugary sweet voice. "And you're so woefully wrong, Potter. See, you love yourself, and I hate you. That makes us polar opposites."

"You hate me if you tried, Cherrytop," Potter chuckled, readjusting his angular spectacles with one hand.

"Yeah?" Lily growled, capping her ink and stuffing her books into her bag. "Watch me."

And she stormed off in search of Mary, wondering all the while what she and Sev did talk about anymore.

In truth:

James hated the fights afterward, but in the moment,

with the shouting and the energy,

it made him feel alive.

And at least Lily showed feelings toward him of some kind.

"You think she'll ever come around?" James sighed, his mood dropping astronomically.

"Nope," came Bex's blunt reply. Blunt, but painfully honest.

"I've just got to step up my game then," he said, drumming his fingers on the table. "Catch you later, Rollin." He jumped to his feet to catch Remus and Peter, who were just leaving the library.

"Moony, Worms!" he called, catching them in the lengthy, self-assured strides of his long legs. "What's up?"

"What's up with you?" Remus said, voice betraying his disconcertment. "Since when do you ever go to the library?

James Jonathan Potter

had attended the library eleven times

in his four years at Hogwarts.

(Nine out of these eleven times, Lily Evans

was present in the library as well).

"Suspend your judgment, I beg of you. Suppose I was chatting with a bird?"

"Lily Evans?" Peter snorted. "Prongs, it's never going to happen."

"Let the doubters scoff all they like. My victory shall be all the sweeter."

"Are we talking about Quidditch or Evans here?" Sirius said, materializing at James's side.

"Quidditch," James said.

"Evans," Remus said.

"Evans," Peter said.

Sirius pumped his fist in the air. "Guilty!"

"Sod off," James said. "The only reason why Chers won't go out with me is because I haven't asked her."

"And you may never get the chance," Sirius said, eyebrows shooting upward.

"What was that, Padfoot?"

Sirius nodded to the side, where Lily Evans and Ryan Lewis were chatting in very close proximity to each other.

"She's allowed to be mates with blokes, for Merlin's sake—" James cut off as Lewis snuck a peck onto Lily's cheek. And then they were holding hands, just for a moment, before Lily walked off in her little black loafers with the flicker of a smile on her face.

An observation:

Unrequited love is a very tiring business.

Let us flash forward a year, reader, to the darkest year in the history of Lily and James.

The year Lily lost her best friend.

The year James lost hope in ever capturing the heart of a certain redhead.

The year Lily resented James Potter the most.

It started with a breakup. Lily and Ryan had been going strong all throughout the end of 1975 and into 1976, but eventually it was time that got in the way.

"I'm Quidditch captain now, Lily," he said, rubbing the soft skin between her forefinger and thumb. "And I'm taking extra classes this year, y'know, so that I can get that internship at St. Mungo's this summer…I just don't see how it can all work out."

Lily nodded. He was making sense, of course. That's what she loved about Ryan: he was so rational, so practical, thinking everything out. But still…

"We made it through last year, didn't we? Even though you had so much pressure on your shoulders to pass the O.W.L.S. with flying colors. And hey," she laughed— a raspy laugh that was choking back tears— "you got to keep your O's and your adoring girlfriend."

Ryan smiled slightly, but he still wouldn't bring his eyes up to hers.

"Rhys," she said quietly, "if you're going to break up with me, then say it up front."

"I'm— putting a suspension on our serious relationship. Until Quidditch finals are done, at least. If you've moved on by then, then that's okay."

The manner in which he said "okay" didn't sound that way at all.

"If you want to get back together, then…it would mean everything to me."

"I can't promise you anything," Lily admitted, blinking water from her eyes. "I just wish you'd stop thinking this is necessary. I like you, Rhys. I really like you. I could handle seeing you less— if it meant I could still be with you."

Ryan shook his head. "I'm not that selfish, Lils. You're a beautiful fifth year with the whole year ahead of you. You deserve to have fun, not be tied down to a bloke like me."

Lily swallowed, hard. She hadn't cried in five years, not since the day that Tuney called her a freak. Her tears weren't about to spill over now, not for a boy who was picking the easy way out of a heartfelt relationship with her.

"Just know that this was your decision, not mine," she finally said, backing away from a miserable looking Ryan Lewis. And the tears never hit her cheeks.

Something James Potter lacked:

tact.

I'm ashamed to report, reader, that an infatuated, fifteen year old James Potter could only wait five weeks after the breakup before asking Lily Evans out (the first time). The two were stuck with each other in a partner project in Potions one day in December, and Lily had her hair in two ribboned plaits down her shoulders, and her freckled nose was all pink in the drafty dungeon classroom, and her lips were puckered over a step she found disputable in the textbook, and the question slipped out almost on its own accord.

"So, Cherrytop, you wanna go out sometime?"

If Lily was surprised, she certainly didn't say so. In fact, she didn't say anything at all.

James cleared his throat. "Chers, are you ignoring me?"

"Oh, no," she said innocently, dumping the last of the Bubotuber juice into the cauldron. "I was simply pondering the multiple meanings of your unfortunately vague question. 'Go out…'" She faked confusion. "Go out? Out of the dungeon? Out of Hogwarts? Or were you aiming for an existential question, as in: do I want to escape the confines of a pureblood affirming society, or even life itself?"

"Evans," James said, trying to wring the exasperation out of his lowered voice. "You know what I mean."

And then the conspiratorial grin. "Oh…you mean…the famous James Potter, head Marauder, leading Chaser of the Gryffindor team, brilliant student, and excellent shag is asking me out on…a date?"

"Quit the facetiousness, Evans, I'm serious."

"Are you?" Lily said dryly, stirring the cauldron counterclockwise three turns. "Well, I'm not." She removed the ladle from the potion. "Professor, I think we've got our Euphoria Elixir just right," she called over to Slughorn, tugging down the sleeves of her rolled up blouse.

The pudgy man eagerly strode to his favorite pupil's desk. With a deep intake of breath, he judged the quality of the potion.

"Flawless as always, Lily," he beamed; the two had dropped the last name basis years ago. "Smells incredible. I'm rather tempted to take a shot or two myself."

"As long as you leave some for my dear partner Mr. Potter," she said, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "He'll need it more than you will."

Lily Evans did not saunter, but as James stared, shoulders tense, fists clenched tight as his first (but certainly not last) rejection strode out of class a whole twenty minutes before the bell, he couldn't help but think she came awfully close.

Fact:

James Potter did not take the Euphoria Elixir.

Perhaps, his fellow Marauders surmised, he had something to prove?

James, at this point, hated himself a little bit. Why couldn't he agree to a second date with the fit bird in his Astronomy class? Why couldn't he forget about the self-righteous redhead that skirted him day and night? Why was he inking the initials L.E. onto his History of Magic notes? Why couldn't put this five year crush behind him? Merlin, what was wrong with him?

Steps Taken to Get Over Lily Evans:

Dating Hannah Price (coincidentally, another redhead)

Asking Marlene McKinnon to Hogsmeade

Not asking Lily Evans out for the entire month of February

Banning the names "Lily," "Evans," and "Cherrytop" from all Marauder discussions

And you guessed it, reader— all these attempts brought fruitless results. It was only on the fateful day of May 3rd, 1976 that James Potter discovered the true secret of giving up on Lily Evans: loving her enough to let her go.

May 3rd, 1976:

It may sound familiar to you.

Picture this: an afternoon on the shores of the Black Lake, filled with students flitting in and out of the warming sun.

Note the Marauders lounging under the shade of a birch tree. James is releasing and catching a snitch languidly in the shade, thinking about the upcoming Slytherin versus Gryffindor game and the waxing moon that was to taking its toll on a certain werewolf friend of his.

Enter a Severus Snape, straightening out his rumpled robes from his studying in the grass.

James: "All right there, Snivellus?"

Snape reacts instantly with a shout of: "Expelliarmus!"

James beats him to it with: "Impedimenta!"

And suddenly Snape is cringing on the ground. A dramatic brief pause ensues, in which James revels in the crowd he is creating. He's been doted on his entire life, by his parents, by his friends, by his classmates— it comes as an expectation now.

James: "How'd the exam go, Snivelly?"

Sirius (with a cheeky grin): "I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment. There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

Another staged pause followed, to allow the laughter to rise and ebb with its natural flow.

Snape: "You—wait. You— wait…"

Sirius: "Wait for what?"

Snape: A list of curses so appalling that would surprise you, reader.

James, amused but unaffected, retaliates: "Wash out your mouth. Scourgify!"

Enter a flushed Lily Evans. She's had it up to her head in James Jonathan Potter and it's about time he knew it.

Lily (with force): "Leave him ALONE!"

And James does.

Lily: "Leave him alone. What's he done to you?"

Thrown off guard in front of his peers, James reaches for his favorite defense mechanism, sarcasm, admitting: "Well, it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean."

Lily, anything but amused, snaps through her teeth: "You think you're funny, but you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone."

James (predictably): "I will if you go out with me, Evans. Go on, go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

He knows the answer before it leaves her tongue. He knows she's too good for him, and that she will always be too good for him, and that his forward antics and overconfident personality will never win her heart, but he's too selfish and too careless and too lazy to change for her, so this is what he has resorted to. Playground pestering.

There were two boys in Lily Evans' life.

One chose to grow up for her,

And the other did not;

she chose the former.

Lily proclaims with all the ferocious derision she can pack into her naturally kind mouth: "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid!"

Sirius: "Bad luck, mate."

Reenter Snape, who was stumbled back onto his feet with the blackness of hate contorting his features.

There is a hex.

There is blood on James' forehead.

And there is a counterattack.

James has Snape at wandpoint again, and the boy is hanging upside down, his sad grey underpants and sad white legs there for the whole crowing crowd to deride.

Lily won't have it: "Let him down!"

James: "Certainly."

Snape crumples to the ground, a quick Locomotor Mortis by Sirius keeping him there for a spell.

Lily (whipping out her wand in a fresh wave of fury): "Leave him alone!"

James hesitates. He's taking it too far— why can't he ever stop when he takes it too far? Trying to maintain good humor for the sake of the onlookers, he sighs: "Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you."

Lily: "Take the curse off him then."

James, muttering a countercurse: "There you go. You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus."

And then comes the moment all three of them would deeply regret for years and years to come. Snape, feeling cornered and alone and pushed by Potter and pushed by Mulciber and Avery and pushed into the Dark Circle, flails for a source of power. And it comes in the form of betrayal, betrayal of the one he holds the most dear: "I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Lily's throat constricts. He's done it then. They've been drifting and drifting and he's been receding deeper and deeper into the parts of himself that she fears most and she's been waiting and dreading and hoping but now it's too late. He's crossed the line. And something in Lily Amelia Evans snaps. She doesn't know "Sev" anymore, and in a moment of wanton desire, seeks to alienate him entirely. And so she says, bitterly, icily: "Fine. I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

And that's that. Something is snapping inside of James Potter, too.

James: "Apologize to Evans!"

Is this his fault, he can't help but wonder?

Lily: "I don't want you to make him apologize. You're as bad as he is…"

James won't take that. He would never hurt her, would never want to make her miserable—

But isn't that what he's done just now? By pushing her away from Snape?

James says (to save his precious image): "What? I'd never call you a— you-know-what!"

Lily lets all her hurt, all her pent up frustrations run loose as she regards the boy with crooked smile: "Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can — I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."

She doesn't feel better after she's said it, though. Actually, she doesn't feel better for quite some time.

They were all miserable afterward.

Snape was numb for a while. It didn't surprise him, what he did— he'd ruined so much already, dug himself in too deep— but this did not lessen his self-disgust in the least. So he had lost the girl he loved, loved since day one in the summer grass with the sun and time on his side. It made his job easier now, he told himself.

He didn't cry.

She didn't either. She had cried when Tuney dismissed her with a twisted mouth and cruel word. That was when the name calling had begun, and it certainly hadn't let up since. Her skin was tougher now; her skin was iron; her skin was steel. They called her freak and ginger and teacher's pet and virgin and Mudblood, and why shouldn't they?

It didn't matter.

It couldn't matter.

And so as Bex rubbed the small of Lily's back and Mary stroked her fingertips, she breathed out and the tears stayed in.

Did you know?

Everyone forgets about James,

but he was miserable too.

"So what if she compared you to the Giant Squid?" Sirius said, laughter dancing in his dark eyes. "She wasn't too far off, y'know."

James mustered a chuckle in response, but his friend recognized its phoniness in a heartbeat.

"She's rejected you before, Prongs," he said softly. "What makes this time any different?"

"I'm done," James finally replied. He was pleased at the way the two words slipped out, that the hoarseness was imperceptible in his voice.

"Done?"

"I'm done with Lily Evans."

Sirius snorted, folding his legs under him from where he sat across from James on the dormitory bed. "Yeah, mate, you've been saying that since second year."

"I mean it," James said somberly. "She doesn't matter anymore."

"Doesn't matter? Doesn't matter! Prongs, are you out of your bloody mind?" Sirius shouted, utterly baffled. "You mean I've put up with your schoolboy pining and melodramatic angst and idle staring for five years for nothing?"

"Yeah."

"Just 'yeah?'"

"Yes, Padfoot. You should be rejoicing right now. No more talk of Lily Amelia Evans."

Sirius was beginning to believe him now, and he didn't like it one bit. "Merlin, Prongs. I'm sorry."

James swallowed, hard. He didn't know how to vocalize the myriad of thoughts scattered about his head, flying at him in little jagged pieces. He didn't know how to say that he'd done enough damage, pushed her to her breaking point, attacked her friend, left her as collateral damage, and needed to back out now before he ruined her life even more. See, James Jonathan Potter was in love with Lily Evans, and he was pretty damn sure she was better off without him.

But James didn't say any of this. Instead, he punched his hand against the wall, as a hard as he could. He drew it back, all bruised and broken and battered, and slammed it into the wall again.

"To hell with her anyway," he finally managed, voice breaking, as dark liquid from his knuckles oozed down his arm.

And James Jonathan Potter did not utter another word to Lily Amelia Evans for the rest of fifth year.


	3. I Know What You Did Last Summer

Chapter 2

I Know What You Did Last Summer

For a popular girl, Lily Amelia Evans was exceedingly lonely by mid-May of her fifth year. She had cut off Snape entirely. Her friends became preoccupied with their end of term studies. And for some unintelligible reason beyond her wit and wonderings, James Jonathan Potter was ignoring her. This wasn't a bad thing, necessarily; in fact, it was a blessing that Lily Evans had wished for since the Second Day of Firsts all those years ago.

You know what they say, reader.

Be careful what you wish for,

because you just might get it.

Now— in this dire moment of social life radio silence, as Lily couldn't help but think that something was missing, something that ought to be there, she could have used a little more noise.

Lily became deeply melancholy in a matter of weeks, a fact that alarmed Bex the moment she managed to peek out from under her pens and parchment and truly regard her friend. The raven haired girl was ready to call for an intervention, but it appeared Lily had taken matters into her own hands.

Late one Thursday night in the Gryffindor common room, Bex was interrupted from her highly stimulating Arithmacy assignment by a flustered Lily, who whipped her scarf off her neck and tossed her robes aside with a mighty huff, proceeding to throw herself into the nearest armchair.

"Quite the dramatic entrance," Bex said, failing to raise her eyes from her notes. "I'd rate it a solid seven out of ten."

"Oh, Bex," Lily said quietly, ignoring the girl's monotonic quip, "I just did something I promised myself I would never do."

That had her friend's attention now. "Oh, honey, it's going to be okay." She dropped her papers to mount the armrest of the plush seat. Lily put her head in her hands.

"It's just— you've been so busy, and Mary's dating Andy Boot now, and Severus is gone, and I- I went and took back Ryan Lewis."

If Bex was surprised, she masked it well. "It's nothing to worry about, Lily. It's not like you married him."

"It's just that I'm becoming the girl I never wanted to be. The weak one who needs a boy to make her feel okay again."

"He's not going to make you feel okay again," Bex told her, just like that. Her slender eyebrows furrowed slightly. "He's going to distract you. And who knows? Maybe you just need a distraction right now."

"Merlin," Lily exhaled. "But don't I. So you're not angry? Mary's going to be over the moon, of course, but she doesn't understand these things like you do."

"Well, I'm not angry," Bex affirmed. "I'm just disappointed."

The upsides of being friends with Bex:

She always told the truth.

The downsides of being friends with Bex:

She always told the truth.

So Lily Evans began dating an ecstatic Ryan Lewis again, and her moods did rise (though her self-esteem did not). And June went by in a blur, until suddenly she was stepping off the train platform with his hand in hers, thinking of all that had gone right and all that had gone wrong.

"Write me from Italy, won't you?" Lily requested, kissing his shoulder lightly.

"Of course. And I'll visit you the moment I'm home again," he grinned down at her with a dimpled smile.

"Er— maybe I'll visit you." Tuney wouldn't take to any more than one wizard in the house, and her brick of a boyfriend Vernon might notice something fishy.

"Alright then," Ryan said amiably, but his words were stiff, as if he sensed something was off. They got like this sometimes, since the reunion in late May. Lily felt helpless to it, to this invisible wall between the two of them, but perhaps their time apart next month would help them through it.

She pecked Rhys's lips goodbye and released his smooth hands, looking toward the hidden entry back into the muggle world. With a resigned sigh, Lily pushed her trolley forward. Owl? Check. Book box? Check. Goodbyes to all friends? Check. Clothing trunk—

Lily's red shoes hesitated for a moment as she glimpsed James Potter over by exit, clapping Remus's shoulder in what must have been some form of farewell. And then he stopped, noticing her noticing him.

Bloody prat, Lily told herself, ripping her green eyes from his hazel ones. I know one person I won't be missing this summer. And she strolled out of Platform 9¾ with her shapely little chin held high.

Dearest Lily,

Our summer home in Italy has been spectacular. I know you would love everything about it, especially the gardens. Gramp's green thumb has resulted in the creation of the most gorgeous plants you had ever seen (not all of them being safe, of course, but he doesn't see all beauty as tame). You'd like Gramps too, I think.

The cousins are fine company, of course, but I desperately miss you. So since I start my internship at Mungo's next week, I thought that I could give you a tour after I get to know the place. I know the Healer's occupation has always intrigued you, so I thought it'd been a fun day for us both.

Let me know when you're available, Lils, and we'll make it happen. I can't wait to hear that lovely laugh of yours and see that brilliant head of hair again.

Yours,

Ryan

Lily smiled at the letter before tucking it away. Short, simple and to the point: it was so endearingly Rhys that it made her heart ache a bit in missing him. And so she hurriedly wrote back with her dates, reader, not knowing that fate might have been writing them for her.

July 14, 1976: the seventh major attack of the rising cult leader, Lord Voldemort.

July 14, 1976: the day Lily Evans toured St. Mungo's with Ryan Lewis.

July 14, 1976: the day James Potter broke the silence.

July 14, 1976: the day all hell broke loose.

"Are you okay, darling?"

James Potter averted his mother's concerned gaze for the fourth time that day as the two headed down the tiled floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, James."

And he did.

"Listen. He's not untouchable. You have to remember that. He's an Auror, and every day can be a battlefield for him, and I know it's so hard for you to realize—"

"Don't coddle me," James said, running a hand through his hair. It was getting far too long; he would need a trim soon. "I'm sixteen, nearly of age."

"I know," Nancy Potter said wearily. "I know it too well. And it's a dark time to be a child. You've got to put on a brave face when you see him, though. He'll need it."

"Stop it," James said abruptly. His grey converses squeaked as he halted in place.

"Sweetheart?"

"Stop doing that, that thing where you treat me like I'm fragile, like I need to be handled with care."

"Keep your voice down, sweet, you'll cause a scene."

James shook his head adamantly. "God, you should see how Sirius is treated at home, and Remus too. They lead entirely different lives because of it, and then they see you with me, and—"

"Having parents who love you is nothing to be ashamed of, James."

But that was the issue, wasn't it? Everyone loved him, everyone adored James Potter, and he was sick of it.

(The Bit James Doesn't Know).

Maybe he kept pushing because he wanted someone to push back.

Nancy Potter's gloved fingers brushed her son's arm, but he pulled away quickly. "I can handle dad's injuries. I can handle the Death Eater scare, Uncle Gregory's death, the Prophet's attack on dad's department! Hell, I can even handle your dragon pox diagnosis!"

Mrs. Potter's face blanched immediately. "You- you know about that?" her voice shook.

And James knew he had screwed up now. "I'm so sorry, Mum…"

"For how long?" she demanded, lip quivering. "God, James, for how long?"

"Two months," he said gently. "I'm so sorry, there was an open letter from the hospital on Dad's desk, and I was curious, and…"

Mrs. Potter covered her mouth her kerchief. "We were going to tell you, when the time was right. When the cult scare had died down, when everything was seated comfortably. We were going to tell you—"

"When everything was perfect? I'm stronger than you think. You need to trust me, but now I can't trust you. I deserved to know, and not when the sun was shining and things turned right. I deserved to know the moment you found out. Merlin, Mum, you know that this Death Eater business isn't just going to float away, don't you? This is real, and your disease is real, but it's nothing we can't get through if we just stick together!"

James regretted the words the moment they erupted in the chatter of the lobby. He'd been too harsh, and she had become too brittle, and now he'd made her cry. Mrs. Potter's shoulders began convulsing rapidly. She was choking back sobs.

"I just w-wanted you to- to b-be ha-happy!" her strangled voice sounded. "Our o-only c-child, my b-beautiful s-son. Your life should b-be p-perfect, and n-now—"

He tried to touch her, to console her, to make it right, but Mrs. Potter wiped her eyes and strode toward the lift.

"Mum, listen for just a moment," he pleaded, following her as she went.

"Not now," she cried, shaking off his touch. "I- I need to speak to your father. Alone."

And so James watched as the doors closed on his red-eyed mother with a twisting, guilty heart.

"Bloody hell," he muttered into his tea on the Level Five Visitors' Center. "Why do I always manage to screw everything up?"

He wanted a Time Turner, to go back and erase those tears from his mother's heartbroken eyes. He wanted to rip that unidentified spell right off his father's chest, making his coma irrelevant. He wanted to escape this happy room filled with unhappy people. Most of all, he wanted to talk to Sirius. But none of them seemed to be options at the current moment.

"And that wraps it up, I think," a familiar voice entered earshot from the opposite side of the hall. "Do you have any question, my most astute student?"

"Just one," a lighter voice replied, and James's stomach churned violently. "This handsome tour guide of mine— I don't suppose he has a date tonight?"

"My, Miss Lily Evans, aren't you forward?"

And James saw Miss Lily Evans out of his peripheral slide a hand up Ryan Lewis's chest to whisper something in his ear. And suddenly he was thirsty for something his steaming tea could not satisfy. It was just so typical, wasn't it, as she was the one person he didn't want to see, and yet she was here, with him, over there, and so blissfully ignorant to the way he sat here, straining to hear her speak, straining to not speak back. He hated this. He hated—

"Bombarda!" a loud voice snarled. There was the sound of glass shattering, several deafening screams, and the stinging sensation of small projectiles smacking James's skin. And then the Death Eater emerged from the wreckage of the Visitor Care Package Shop, garbed in black robes and a menacingly sharp hat, and James held his breath.

"That's better," the man crooned to the hushed room. No one moved. No one dared speak. "I'm looking for a certain Geraldine Harris," he said in a velvety voice. "And I'm sure I can convince someone here to disclose her current whereabouts."

James could nearly hear his own blood coursing through his veins, the room was so still.

"How interesting. Not a soul who knows…your ignorance astounds me…forgive me if I do not accept it outright."

In two quick strides, he held a plump, middle aged witch at wandpoint. "What about you, dear lady? I don't suppose you know where sweet little Mudblood Geraldine Harris is located? No…how disappointing…Crucio!"

The woman shrieked and cried, writhing to the ground in agony. James's throat was dry. All he could think about was Lily, a muggleborn witch in the middle of what must be another Purging, as the Death Eaters called it, a morbid "Mudblood" hunting game that always ended in death.

The irony:

For an allegedly self-absorbed person,

James Potter had no sense of self-preservation;

in moments of danger, he was completely self-less.

If only Lily Evans knew this, reader.

"Geraldine!" the Death Eater cried, "come out, come out, wherever you are!" And then he was torturing another man, who was screaming please, please, I know nothing, please, oh God, please, I don't know, stop, I beg of you.

James's hand crept toward the wand in his robe pocket—but did he dare? If he was killed, who would protect Lily? Surely not that Lewis idiot…he was good with his books, but surely not with his spells.

The Death Eater proceeded down the hall, a step closer and closer to Lily. A young woman was tortured, and then an older man, and then—

"Not my boy!" a woman shouted, voice shaking, clutching her supposed son by his small green jacket. "Please, I'll tell you what you want, just stop this, don't hurt him!"

The Death Eater kept his wand raised. "Tell me the truth, woman, or I'll slit his throat."

"In t-the loo, on Level Five. She was washing up not f-five minutes past, I saw her, someone called her n-name…"

"Very well," he said coolly. "Thank you for your input." He dropped his wand from her face, and she collapsed, sobbing, groveling, when he added, "Your son will be going with me, of course, just to hold you to your word."

And then she was screaming again as he jerked the boy away from her, dragging him down the hall and out of the exit, running after them with stumbling feet.

For a heartbeat, it was silent.

And then chaos was let loose. People were running, ducking under tables, weeping, clutching each other, and James Jonathan Potter was sprinting towards Lily Amelia Evans as if his life depended on it.

He grabbed her arm tightly, and she spun around with wide eyes. "Potter? What are you doing here?"

"I don't really think it matters right now!" he snapped. "Listen, you know what happens during these Purges, don't you? You know what kind of danger you're in?"

"We're all in danger," Lily shot back. "And at the current moment, Geraldine Harris's situation is much dire than mine!"

"You're not actually planning on…" He saw the determined flash in her emerald eyes, and he bit his lip, hard. "Merlin, woman, you're bloody insane! You can't go after a Death Eater! You'll be killed!"

"And if I don't, then she certainly will! From one muggleborn to another, I feel like— I don't know! I need to protect her!"

"Potter's right," Lewis spoke up for the first time, to her left. "That was Lucius Malfoy in there just a moment ago, I'd bet ten Galleons on it. I used to play against his Quidditch team in third year…nasty bloke, good with the Dark Arts…he'd crush you like a bug, Lils."

"Well I'm going," Lily said stubbornly, almost belligerently. "By myself, if that's what it takes."

Lewis held her in place. "Just thinkfor a moment, love. You're not a patient, you're not on the roster— that means your blood status isn't on record. The Death Eaters won't harm you, we can get you out of here safe!"

"Nowhere is safe for wizards like me anymore," Lily said resolutely. And all of a sudden James understood her fierceness. Lewis handled her as if she was made of porcelain, just like his mum treated him, and she had something to prove. James could respect that motive. And the more that he thought about it, he had a thing or two to prove, too…

"If we're going to go, it has to be now," he said firmly, and it was worth it to see the gratified look on her freckled face. "There's a life at stake here, right?"

"Right," Lily said, gripping her wand tight. Lewis glanced from Lily to James, from James to Lily, with an open mouth.

"You too, Potter? You can't be serious! You're fifth years…she could get hurt…"

James twitched irritably. "Actually, we're sixth years now, Lewis. And you're the one who's going to get hurt, if you don't get out of my way right now."

"Lily?" he turned to her, incredulous.

"Are you coming or not, Rhys?"

And the Ravenclaw swallowed, no doubt trying to find his inner Gryffindor.

"Should we split up?" Lily called to Potter as the three of them sprinted down the walkway. "Y'know, try and tackle Malfoy from two sides?"

"Bad idea," he replied, "since none besides your dear boyfriend over there know this institution particularly well. If someone gets lost…well, there goes our strength in numbers."

"Well, do you have a better idea?" she retorted.

"Yeah," he panted, his tousled hair sticking out this way and that as he ran, "it's a little method called 'point and hex.'"

"I don't really think now is the time to sass me, Potter!" Lily screamed back. The boy was even exasperating in life-threatening scenarios! Did he take anything seriously?

A riddle:

Why was Lily Evans turning to help from her worst enemy

instead of her doting boyfriend?

Beats me, reader.

They skidded to a halt in front of the signs for the lavatory.

"Um," Rhys started, uncertainly, "I've studied Auror battle techniques, and there is something to be said for flanking, so maybe we should—"

"Oh, shut up, Lewis," Potter grumbled, thrusting a hand through his hair. "Your studies won't help you know. All you have are your wits and your wand. See if you can make use of them, eh?"

And Lily almost smiled in spite of herself as he thrust open the woman's lavatory door. The three of them pushed through, side by side, to see Malfoy suspending Geraldine Harris in the air with his wand.

"Stupefy!" Potter roared, catching the Death Eater in a moment of surprise. The spell blasted Malfoy against a stall with a remarkable thump. The boy blinked. "That was shockingly easy."

"Get out of here!" a shrill Geraldine screamed from her collapsed heap on the ground. "Get out now, the others— they're coming, any moment now!"

"She's been frightened out of her mind," Ryan informed Lily. "I recognize the symptoms, I've been working with them for weeks."

"Just a minute, Lewis!" Potter broke in. "I think she's telling the truth."

At that moment, three more Death Eaters burst into the large lavatory, taking in the scene in a second.

"God, I hate it when I'm right," Potter groaned.

And then the lights and the hexes and shouting began. Lily could hardly see, hardly hear through them all; she was screaming Stupefy and Immobulus, dodging with Protego, rolling and ducking and somehow shooting at the same time. Ryan went down next to her; some bluish hex had knocked him out. "Petrificus totalus!" Lily screamed, and her fear gave her clarity— she had managed to hit a Death Eater straight on, and he collapsed in a solid body lock.

Potter was taking on the other two at once, and for a moment, Lily could only watch. It was true, what they said. He really was the most gifted wizard of his age. Not even bothering to speak the spells aloud, the boy with the jet black hair and the skewed glasses leapt left and right, under stalls and over them, blasting red and purple and green and yellow hexes from his wand, tossing away the Death Eater's curses with a mere flick of his wrist.

"Um, a little help here, Cherrytop!" he managed out after rolling to the left, evading a Reducto that decimated the stall beside her.

"Right!" Lily replied, her voice two octaves higher than intended. She army crawled out from under the sink and began blasting at the Death Eater's legs. The spells weren't powerful enough to cause too much damage, but the distraction was enough for James to bring down a man down with a hex she couldn't quite identify.

One more to go. They had a fighting chance now, she realized as she aimed a blasting curse at the doorframe above the Death Eater. It collapsed with a great cracking noise and crashed into the first stall door, revealing to Lily's shock the boy in the green jacket she'd seen earlier.

Potter froze for a millisecond, understanding there was another factor at stake. A millisecond was all it took for their opponent to catch him off guard, and Lily saw the strike in slow motion, the twist and thrust of the wand, and all of a sudden she was leaping in front of the boy's hesitating body.

The world exploded into purple, and then black.

"Cherry? Cherrytop? You awake in there?" James Potter's voice echoed in her ears as she reentered consciousness.

"I feel like hippogriff dung," Lily moaned. She rubbed her eyes groggily.

"And she reenters the land of the living! Congratulations on surviving another day on this desolate planet."

"For the love of Merlin, dock the noise a level."

"Grouching and complaining, is that really the way you want to thank your rescuer?"

Lily jerked her body into an upright position, remembering the attack and the curse and the blackout. She was in a hospital ward with James Potter beside her, who was watching her keenly with his chin propped up in one hand.

"Where's Ryan?" she asked nervously.

"Sleeping. Don't worry, Chers, I took care of everything. After you took that spell for me, I had just enough of an edge to stupefy the bloke before he touched a hair on sweet Ryan's head."

"Are you mocking me?"

He threw his hands up into the air. "Up for interpretation. You seem like a bright bird, figure it out."

Lily flopped back onto the bed with a huff. She couldn't really find it in her to be angry at Potter right now, despite how pleased he seemed with himself.

"The Purge?" she croaked. "Is it over?"

He nodded, all business now. "Yeah. We hunkered down in the last lavatory stall for a while, and I managed to charm Lewis back into consciousness and keep our little friend quiet— his name is Reginald Cattermole, if you were wondering. Quite a mouthful, isn't it?"

"James," Lily said in exhaustion. "Spill the rest of it, will you?"

He paused for a moment, licking his lips, and she realized awkwardly that she had called him by his first name. It really was better than Potter though, which lacked any kind of musicality.

"So, we waited it out and worried over your supposed dead body—"

Lily raised her eyebrow at that.

"—and finally a magically amplified voice announced an all-clear, and I carried you to Level Four to get this hex sorted out. And that's that."

"You carried me?" The thought was mortifying.

"Yeah. Lewis wasn't feeling quite up to it yet."

Oh, Rhys. She would kill that boy when she had the chance, after she kissed him for being alive.

"Right, then." James cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I guess I'll be off then."

"Wait a moment. Where are you popping off to now?"

Oddly, she didn't want him to leave just yet.

"None of your business."

She folded her arms. "Like that's stopped anyone before."

He chuckled half-heartedly. "'Bye, Evans."

"I'll follow you if you don't tell me."

"No you won't."

"Yes I will."

"You need your rest."

"Yes I do."

"So you'll stay."

"Not a chance."

James groaned theatrically, jiggling the doorknob in apparent vexation. "Fine. You win. I'm going to visit my parents. They're just down the hall."

"Your parents? They're here? Why?"

"Oh no," James said, an enigmatic grin tugging at his lips, "I just answered a question. It's your turn now. Why did you take that curse for me, Evans? Mind you, I'm quite grateful of course, just a bit befuddled."

Lily shifted on her bed. "I…don't know. You were doing all the real work. I guess I thought your odds were better against the Death Eater than mine."

"Yeah," he said, still fiddling with the door handle. "I guess that makes since."

A pregnant silence.

"Yep," Lily said.

He was watching her carefully, trying to read her expression, trying to work out a truth she didn't have the answer to, and so Lily desperately threw out a red herring.

"The Death Eaters," she blurted out. "Were they apprehended?"

"Two out of the four of them," James said bitterly. "Malfoy and one other got away."

"Oh." Lily twisted her scraggly hair into a low bun behind her head, conscious of the fact that she had not screamed at Potter for the entirety of their exchanges. What was she supposed to do with that?

James made as if to leave again, but paused right before slipping out the door. "Hey, Evans," he said slowly, raising his shadowed eyes up to hers, "you didn't…notice anything strange about one of the Death Eaters, did you?"

"What do you mean?"

He pushed down a lock of hair that stuck up pugnaciously at the back of his head. It popped right back up again. "One of them looked familiar to me. His build…his height…and when you hexed him, he shouted, and I could have sworn…"

"Spill it, Potter."

"He was Roth Muliciber."

Lily hooked a stray lock behind her ear. "What in the name of Merlin would make you think—"

"I just know, okay?"

"You…just…know."

"It was Muliciber, and he got away, and I'll prove it to you when our next term starts."

"He's a nasty bloke, I'll give you that much. But working with Death Eaters? He used to be friends with Snape. I don't think he'd go to those extremes."

"Times are changing, Chers. Didn't anything that happened in the last few hours convince you of that? He's one of Voldemort's cronies now, and I'm sure that another third of Slytherin house could say the same."

"Those are some serious accusations."

"I know," James stated solidly, and his eyes were severe and earnest for perhaps the very first time.

"Okay," Lily said. "Fine. Maybe I trust you, a little. But blimey, James, this is so…"

"Real?"

"Exactly."

"I'll prove it to you," he said quietly.

And then he slipped out the door without another word, leaving Lily Amelia Evans squinting at the space he had occupied moments before in blatant confusion.

As a wise woman might have said,

There are some things you can't share without ending up tolerating each other,

and knocking out four Death Eaters is one of them.


	4. Back Into the Fray

Chapter 4

Back Into the Fray

The train compartment was hot, a relic of a bygone summer. Lily Evans' shoulder bumped against her boyfriend's to the rhythmic jostling of the Hogwarts Express. Here they were again. Another first day of school.

Let us note:

For Ryan Lewis, it was a last.

Lily pursed her lips at the thought of that. There were other things to dread, too. Things besides an imminent breakup lurking in the shadows of her return, like black hair and hazel eyes and a dangerous promise. She shifted in her seat.

"Hey," Ryan turned to face her. "I know what you're thinking, but a year is a long time. We're going to make it great."

"It's less than a year," Lily muttered. She pushed her sweaty bangs from her forehead. "It's stuffy in here, isn't it? So hot, we ought to crack a window—"

She pushed away his hand to reach for the latch.

"Lils," Ryan sighed. "We have to talk about this. Are you going to be all right, with me gone next year?"

"—The dumb latch is stuck, would you give me a hand, Mary?

"Lily, come on, I'm serious."

"Am I going to have to hex this thing open?"

"Talk to me."

Mary dropped her hands from the window to turn to Ryan. "Should I leave? It sounds like you two have some serious things to work out before we get to school."

Lily slammed her hand against the glass. "There's nothing to work out. Everything's fine. I'm just hot, and this goddamned window refuses to open!"

Mary raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to go find Bex." And she slid out of the compartment, leaving Lily with a bewildered boyfriend.

"Hey," he said, voice soft. "What's going on?"

Lily rubbed her temples with harsh force. "I wish I knew. It's just this last summer, and you having to leave, and the muggle-born killings on the rise… I didn't think it would get to me. But it's starting to."

"My sweet Lily." His voice was full of pity, his open hands full of gentleness, his eyes so worried. And the room was hot, and getting hotter, and the compartment was so small, and Roth Muliciber was just down the hall, and she needed to know she could handle this, but the way he was looking at her made her feel so—

"I need air," she managed out, pushing past Ryan. She needed to find Bex. She needed to find Mary. She needed to find the boy who promised answers to a riddle spun days and days before.

A personal opinion:

She needed to find someone who treated her like she was strong.

They didn't cross paths that first day, James Jonathan Potter and Lily Amelia Evans. She was waiting for news, both dreading and longing for it, and he was busy searching for the information she wanted. If anything, it would be an excuse to talk to her. To see her. To speak on civil terms, pretend they were just a boy and a girl on the brink of something that some might venture to call "friendship." And so he and Sirius began slinking around under the Invisibility Cloak, catching whispers and counting shadows, trying to place just what exactly what was smelling afoul in Slytherin House.

The clues didn't piece themselves together like a patchwork quilt with an enchanted needle and thread. Each one was dangerously earned and desperately coveted. The first of these was acquired on September 12th, 1976, during the first real back-to-school kickback Hogwarts had seen that year.

"There has got to be a better way to spend my Saturday," Lily grumbled, looping her hair a final time through a band to seal her ringlets in a high ponytail. "And honestly, I kind of thought kickbacks were a fifth year thing anyway."

"Don't look at me." Bex cast an accusatory glance Mary's way. "There's Miss Social Pixie for you."

If the fair headed girl was sheepish, she didn't show it. Instead, Mary MacDonald shrugged. "A lot of our friends are leaving this year. And it got me thinking. We don't want to miss out on anything, and if that means showing up at a lame party that will probably get shut down within the first hour, then so be it. At least be there to make sure no one does anything completely stupid, Lily. It's your job as a prefect."

"A real prefect would never allow this to happen in the first place," Lily said through her teeth. But she had been called spoilsport enough for one lifetime. She was frustrated with her boyfriend, for some reason beyond her, and frustrated with her workload, and frustrated with something, something she just couldn't put her finger on. And so when she felt herself caving, she went with it.

Why exactly was Lily Evans was unhinged?

A complicated question-

It was a combination of surprises in the past

and surprises to yet to come.

James didn't realize he was looking for her until he spied the splash of red hair at the corner of the crowd. She was eying a keg of firewhiskey with a pair of twisted lips, tugging at lock that had tumbled out of her careless updo, legs of her jeans still rolled up from wading in the Black Lake. The kickback was set up at the edge of the water, so that all the Houses could mingle before the 9:00 outdoor curfew called them indoors, as it was every year.

Except this year, she had shown up.

"Don't do it, Prongs," Sirius said firmly, materializing at his side. "Remember the Great Rampage of 1976? The sacred vow, swearing off all Lily Evanses until death do you part?"

"This is different."

Sirius's dark eyebrows appraised him. "You're so weak sometimes, James Potter, that it physically revolts me."

"I'm serious! You remember what I told you about our little run-in this summer?"

"It's no excuse—"

"Well I promised I would keep her updated about any Death Eater complications that came up—"

"—She's got a boyfriend, mate—"

"—And I need to keep my word—"

"—Merlin, you're pathetic—"

"And you can't stop me."

And he pushed his way through the mess of students to reach her.

"I won't ask you again," Lily was saying to a second year when he entered earshot. "Throw it out now and I won't report you to McGonagall. Merlin, I can't believe you idiots actually believe you can get away with drinking on school premises."

"Relax, Chers," James said, snatching the cup from the wide-eyed boy's hand. "Sun's going down, so outdoor curfew starts in an hour anyways. How much could a little drink hurt?"

Perhaps it wasn't the best opener, James would think in eyesight. If looks could kill, he would be deader than Peeves and Nearly Headless Nick combined.

"You're the last person I want to talk to right now," she said. Her head snapped toward the younger student. "Get out of here. If I see you anywhere near a beer keg again tonight, consider yourself suspended."

The second year took off. James whistled, swishing the butterbeer back in forth in his hand. "So you're in one of those moods tonight, huh? I guess I better drink this." He drained the boy's butterbeer and crumpled the cup.

Lily crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want, Potter? Other than annoy me, which you have done a splendid job of doing so far."

"It's a personal strength of mine, Chers. I just wanted to remind you of our little um— how shall I phrase it?— adventure last summer."

Lily glanced around the crowd for a moment. "If we're going to do this, we'd better do it in some place more private."

Old James might have capitalized upon the innuendos surrounding the statement, but this was New and Improved James Potter. The one who had stopped pursuing Lily. The one who had earned a snippet of her respect in a chance encounter months before. You're not screwing this up, he told himself. And miraculously, he didn't.

The two of them stole off beyond the hub of the party and the lovers in the dark corners, nearly to the greenhouses and the courtyard. Lily slid down the stone wall until she was seated against it. Crossing her legs, she propped her chin in hands and looked up at him.

"Well, spill."

"What?"

"If you've got something to say, then say it."

"What makes you think I have something to say?"

"Why else would you bring up this summer?"

"I just want to check if we're on the same page."

Her eyebrows shot up her freckly forehead. "Since when have we ever been on the same page?"

"Since the Purge forced us onto the same team."

She might have snorted.

"I'm serious, Evans. We're a team now, whether you'll admit it or not. We both saw something we didn't want to see, and now we have no clue who to trust with our information. It's obvious to me that we've got to stick together."

"If you're talking about Muliciber—"

"I am talking about Muliciber."

"Well we never confirmed that he was actually involved in the Purge."

"That's why I found you. So that we can stitch together a plan and find out the truth."

She paused, tucking a strand behind her ear. James waited. He pretended not to care about the way she moved, the way those final strings of sunlight touched her pale skin.

[Because if you pretend to care for long enough,

Perhaps you'll fool yourself into believing it's true.]

"You really mean all this, don't you?" she finally spoke.

James exhaled as he joined her on the ground. "Yeah. I think so. People are going to get hurt, Evans. This is bigger than you and me. Don't you think it's our responsibility to do something?"

"Responsibility," Lily said, as if tasting the word on her tongue. "Maybe you're right. But what's the first step then? I would think you and your Marauders would have something up your sleeve."

"I just have one idea." James thrust a hand through his hair.

"What is it?"

"You're not going to like what I have to say."

"Potter."

"How do you feel about rebuilding bridges with Severus Snape?" James said all in one breath.

"And with that, I take my leave," Lily growled, hopping up to her bare feet. "Bye."

"Aw, c'mon, Evans, wait!"

"It's out of the question! Go summon your little partners in crime and come up with a better idea."

"All right, all right. I knew it was asking too much. It's just that—"  
And suddenly Lily was tackling him to the ground, forcing her small palm over his mouth.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Shh!" she hissed. James listened. They were behind the walls of the courtyard, lying just out of sight of whoever was inside the plaza.

And then the voices started.

"Is that all you were told?" Lily squirmed at that voice, and James shot her a triumphant look. It was Muliciber, no doubt about it. He could pinpoint that squishy voice a mile away.

"Yes. Orders straight from the Dark Lord, according to Malfoy." This one was older, more unfamiliar.

"But it's impossible. Have you ever heard of such a potion? I doubt it even exists."

"If our master wills you to find it, you will do just that."

"But- but where to even begin? The castle is massive, the recipe so specific."

"Horace Slughorn has aided the Dark Lord in the past. Perhaps he will unwittingly do so again, if you are delicate."

"I might be able to try at the end of next month," Muliciber muttered. James had to strain to make out his words. "The half-wit is always hosting some sort of party or another, and is nearly drunk by the time they finish."

"Do not fail," the older Death Eater admonished. "Failure means certain death. Do you understand?"

"Completely."

"Then my task here is complete."

The voice faded, and then the footsteps. After several minutes, Lily finally appeared to have come to her senses about their current arrangement on top of each other, her legs straddling his waist. It was all silence and heartbeats and heat between the two of them, and James couldn't find it in himself to breathe.

She rolled off of him hurriedly, clearing her throat all the while. "So…" She ducked her head to hide a blush that the growing dusk could not mask. "You were right about Muliciber, then."

"You do know what he was talking about, don't you?"

"About the potion? No clue. But it didn't sound good."

"No. About the Slug Club. Slughorn's got this dinner party and dance thing scheduled on Halloween."

Lily stood up, eyes bright. "We'll both get invited to that. It would be all too easy to spy on Muliciber and see what he's up to."

"So you're in, then?"

She visibly tensed. He could see the lines of strain in her shoulders, her arms. And he knew why.

"I know you're not used to this, relying on me."

"You're not exactly known to be reliable," Lily muttered. She played with a rock between her toes.

"Merlin, I don't know if I'm drunk enough for this talk," James groaned, "but I think we're going to have to try to be friends for a while."

Friends. God, the word was poison in his ears and his veins. But it was the only way.

"Fine, Potter. I will agree to tolerate you for an extended period of time."

She didn't sound as cold as she used to though. In fact, there was level of mirth there, he was sure, scratching its way to the surface of her words. And so they shook on it with enigmatic eyebrow quirks and flippant good-byes, departing opposite ways only to find themselves walking in step back to the party. And this was yet another first of the new year.

Alliance:

A union formed for mutual benefit.

i.e. The team consisting of members Lily Amelia Evans and James Jonathan Potter.


	5. Masked Ball, Part I

Chapter 4

Masked Ball, Part I

James had never felt as euphoric as he had after that Quidditch practice, his nose red from the growing autumn chill, cheeks flushed with victory, hair in tufts every which way from the breeze on the broomstick. Sirius was reminiscing about their first nights as Padfoot and Prongs as they walked to the common room, and both of them were wheezing from the ridiculousness of it all. James thrust his thumbs in his pockets and began whistling an old Merris and the Gambling Goblins song— a feel good tune from the '60s— and nearly walked right into Alice Fortescue.

"Watch yourself, Potter," she said, her shapely pink lips turning up ever so slightly at his blunder.

"Sorry, Alice. Let me make it up to you— be my date to the Slug Club dance next week?"

She rolled her eyes. "Is this standard James Potter protocol for an apology?"

"Yes," Sirius said as James blurted, "Of course not!"

Alice arched an eyebrow. "Sure, Potter. But we're going as friends, okay? Believe it or not, I've got my eye on another man."

"Alice, you saucy wench," Sirius smirked, "I never expected you to be so forward."

"In your dreams, Black!" she called over her shoulder as she skipped away.

Sirius whistled. "Damn you, Prongs. I should have asked her first."

"You're going to the party?"

"As soon as I snag myself a date."

"You hear that?" James shouted through the empty corridor. "Striking handsome and surprisingly single Hogwarts sweetheart Sirius Black is in need of a date!"

"Merlin, keep your voice down," he muttered.

"Hurry while supply lasts!"

Sirius jabbed his friend in the side, perhaps a bit harder than was necessary. This, naturally, led to a good deal of scuffling and horseplay that one Lily Amelia Evans found blocking her path up to the common room.

"What's up, Cherrytop?" James called cheerily from his position in Sirius' headlock.

"Nothing, you?"

He shrugged, scrabbling against Sirius' firm grip. "You know, the usual. Being strangled to death by my best friend."

"I'll cast a blind eye just this once Sirius…since you're probably performing more of a public service than a crime."

"My ghost will haunt you for the rest of your life, Evans, so help me God!" James croaked. "I'll destroy half of every matching pair of socks you own! I'll paint your hair various shades of coral in your sleep! I'll—"

"Good seeing you too, Potter," Lily chuckled. She walked away with her red locks swishing back in forth from the imperceptible bounce in her step.

They watched her go in silence. James knew there were questions coming. Resignedly, he braced himself for them as he pushed Sirius' loosened grip away.

"You're friends now."

"Yeah. I wasn't sure how the whole mutual agreement was going to go at first, but what do you know?"

Sirius's harsh appraisal would not make James balk. He crossed his hands over his wrinkled button down and jutted his chin out. "Honest. I've backed off, we're mates now, and believe it or not, but it is for a greater good."

And you know, reader,

James is always about the greater good.

This is what James learned Sirius was worried about that night in the common room, when he sat the boy down with Remus and Peter after a heated game of Exploding Snap.

"Look, Prongs, I get what's at stake here. Trust me, I do. That stuff that happened at Mungo's—bloody awful. Someone's got to put a stop to the Death Eaters behind it. That someone can be you, fine. But Evans?" Sirius glanced at his fellow Marauders for support.

Prompted by a pointed look from his friend, Peter cleared his throat. "You're better off without her making your life miserable."

"When has she ever made me miserable?"

Sirius snorted.

"Fine. Point taken."

"Don't get me wrong," Remus spoke up, "Lily's brilliant. To be honest, if you two stopped arguing for one second, you'd be incredible friends. Just be careful, okay James? She's got a boyfriend. And you…you're…"

"Better off without her," admitted Sirius.

James sat up in his armchair. He was angry now, and they all knew it. "What the hell is this?" he snapped. "An intervention? You've seen me. I've asked Alice to the dance. I've actually opened a book once or twice this year. I've got the Quidditch team whipped up into its finest shape yet. I'm doing just fine, thank you Sirius—"

The other boy flinched at the lack of the familiar nickname.

"—And I can do fine being friends with Lily Evans all the while."

"I'm sorry," Sirius said after a minute. "I try not to say this kind of stuff too often, mate. I just felt like—"

"Felt? We're talking about feelings now? God, we're just a bunch of girls. You know, I'm sick of this conversation."

Remus's eyes darted between James' and Sirius' heated expressions. "How about we drop it. Call it a night. We've got that charms exam first thing tomorrow, anyway."

James opened his mouth, considered how tired he was and how much this argument was taking out of him, and then closed it. And when he went to sleep, he attempted to riddle out why he was so frustrated with his best friend.

The Conclusion He Reached:

It was because Sirius was right.

A week passed. It was Friday night, the day before Halloween. The night of Slughorn's annual Hallow's Eve Dance, which did not mean much to most people.

Lily Evans was not most people. She was worrying about more than the missing button on her silky green dress and the ringlet that wouldn't set right in her half-up half-down hairdo. Not surprisingly, concocting a plan to ditch one's boyfriend to engage in covert operations with a previous sworn enemy to save the school from potential disaster outweighed these otherwise pressing matters.

She slammed her necklace down on the dresser. "The clasp's gone and broken itself again."

"You're a witch, remember?" Bex said lightly. "Reparo."

"Thanks."

Bex turned to her friend and held her guilty eyes. "You could always just tell him, you know. Ryan would understand."

"Would he? See, I have the funniest feeling he would freak out."

Lily hadn't meant for there to be an edge on her voice, but there it was, clear as day, and Bex certainly wouldn't let it go.

"Have you two been fighting or something? Something's been off since the start of school."

No, Lily thought miserably, since that horrible Purge. One little cog in their smoothly flowing dynamic popped out of place, and they were both helpless to the damage. She kept snapping at him. He kept apologizing. Somehow that was the worst possible thing he could do.

I wonder

If Lily was blaming the wrong boy

for the fallout?

"I want to fix things," Lily resolved. "Tonight the weirdness has to stop. Except I don't know how I'm supposed to accomplish that when I'll be stalking Death Eaters with Potter."

Bex tugged at Lily's misshapen curl with a scowl. "Nothing's ever easy for you, is it?"

"Never."

Professor Slughorn couldn't seem to stop beaming when he laid eyes on Lily. "So glad you could make it, m'girl," he kept saying, but all she could see was Muliciber in his dark pupils and her hands were getting sweatier by the minute.

"Let's sit down, shall we?" Ryan said, and Lily almost gasped with relief.

"Merlin, yes."

The dinner was to come first, then the dancing. Rhys was helping her into her chair when Sirius slid into the seat across from them. He had a blond fifth year on his arm, who seemed a little at loss for words.

"Black."

"Evans. Looking particularly ravishing tonight."

"Doesn't she?" Ryan grinned and planting a kiss on her freckled cheek.

The first course was placed in front of them— a cream of barley soup with a disagreeable sort of texture. The four of them managed to stoke the fires of small talk until the meat came. It was then that Sirius rolled his sleeves up, with no apparent regard for the expensiveness of his dress robes, and leaned in close to Lily.

"So, you ready to get to work tonight?"

Lily struggled to get her bite down her throat. She stole a glance at an oblivious Ryan, who was struggling to carve into the steak. "God, I just knew James would tell you three about it all."

"Well, yeah. But I'm confused. Aren't you supposed to be his wingman or something?"

Lily set down her fork. Ryan still wasn't listening. "I guess. Why?"

"Because he's already started your operation." Sirius nodded toward the head of the table, where Muliciber and Slughorn were chatting like two old friends. And two seats over were James Potter and a lovely Alice Fortescue, talking animatedly over their meat and gravy. Lily stiffened.

"He chose an interesting area of the table he's chosen to sit at," she said shortly. She didn't know why she should be angry. James was gathering important information about their adversary early into the evening. Maybe she just didn't like that he was a step ahead of her. That had to be it.

"Yeah. He's good at this stuff. It's like second nature to him."

Lily nodded absently, stabbing at a piece of potato that simply wouldn't allow itself to be impaled.

"Hey." Sirius stared at her until she lifted her eyes off her plate. "Are you up to this? Sometimes James doesn't realize how much he's asking of other people. And this is a lot."

Lily blinked. "I— thank you. I'm going to be all right. This is something I feel I need to do. And as much as I hate to admit it, I really think I can trust Potter."

"You can," Sirius said quietly. His lips twisted as he looked at her, words obviously roaring about underneath that disheveled head of hair, but none escaped his lips for a moment or two. "Maybe I was wrong about you," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Ryan turned back to join the conversation at that moment, dabbing his mouth on his black napkin once or twice. "Now what are you two gossiping about over there?"

"Nothing." It was Lily who said it now, eyes wandering over to the boy with angular spectacles at the end of the table.

They didn't talk much for the rest of dinner.

An observation:

Lily was quite liberal with her stolen glances at

Said boy with the angular glasses.

He had shed his dress robes for a white button down and black vest. His sleeves were rolled up nearly to his elbows, despite the mild chill in the room, and his white skin was nearly transparent in the soft blue light. He kept tossing his head back and laughing with Alice. She couldn't exactly riddle out what was so funny, but it was wracking the shoulders of those two without mercy. Lily let out a puff. There was something coiled tight in her belly, like a pre-O.W.L.s stress ache, but different somehow.

"Are you quite all right, Lils?" Ryan asked. His finger was shockingly cold against her flushed neck.

Sirius's eyes had narrowed. "Yeah, Evans. Are you all right?"

"I told you. I'm fine. Just have to get a bit of air, ya'know? Don't go anywhere, Rhys." She pecked him on the lips for good measure, which seemed to placate the boy just fine, and hurried off to the loo.

Once the stall was locked behind her, Lily pressed her back against it and let out a held breath. What was wrong with her? She couldn't relax. She couldn't even hold a conversation with her own boyfriend. Something was off, and had been off for a while now, and Merlin help her, she couldn't seem to fix it.

To define dramatic irony:

Irony occurring when the implications of a situation are understood

by the audience but not by the character in the story.

Lily shook her head. She was overthinking things, which was never a good idea. That's when she made the most mistakes. Get back out there and charm your loving boyfriend. Go eavesdrop on one little conversation, dance for a song or two, and then take a nice, cold shower.

Yes. She could do that. Squaring her shoulders, Lily pushed the door open to leave the lavatory, only to nearly bump into Slughorn himself.

"Sorry, Professor!"

"Not a problem, Lily. How did you enjoy the dinner?"

"The soup was quite…hearty," she managed.

"Glad to hear it. Be sure to stick around— the dancing will begin in thirty minutes or so."

"Will you be joining us on the floor, Professor?"

Slughorn chortled. "Only if my favorite student insists. You must excuse me though, I have a quick request to attend to."

Lily summoned her best poker face. Which, granted, wasn't much. "Oh? Found yourself another favorite student?" she tried to joke.

"No one who could measure up to you, my dear." He clapped her on the shoulder before continuing down the hall.

Of course, now she had to follow him. If Muliciber had requested a private audience with Slughorm, there were few places around the ballroom where he could be expected to go. Lily would bet her life on the Muggle Studies classroom beside the kitchens; Slughorn and she had had a lengthy talk about a Ministry of Magic letter of recommendation after a Slug Club meeting at the end of last year. She rocked back and forth in her pair of black high heels for a moment, weighing her options. Taking the back way was faster. If she ran fast enough, she might be able to beat Slughorn into the room and find a hiding spot to listen in.

There was nothing to it, then. Cursing under her breath, Lily yanked off her heels to hold in hand and took off in the opposite direction. The chilly stone floor stung her bare feet as she sprinted down the labyrinthine corridors. A left, then a right, then a right again. There the classroom was, no light on inside yet. Praying that her guess was right, Lily yanked the door open and shuffled into the dark classroom. Behind the professor's desk at the back of the room seemed her best bet. She dove behind it, heels clicking together in her right hand— only tumble straight into James Potter.

"You!"

"Me?"

"What— how could you possibly know—"

"Muliciber asked him for help on a tricky potion during dinner. They agreed to meet here. But you need to get out, right now."

"Me?" Lily hissed, still out of breath from her sprint. "No way."

James flashed her a pained look from his tiny hiding spot carved out beneath the wooden desk. "Are you expecting me to share with you?"

She pushed back her hair, which was growing bigger by the minute, and blew out a breath of frustration. "Again, no way. But—"

At that moment the knob of the door began to jiggle.

"Bollocks," Lily growled. She thrust her heels into his hands and crawled under the desk with him, her back on one side, his on the other, their legs a tangled mess.

I must give credit where credit is due:

James did his best not to stare

at her creamy legs

and tangled red locks.

A pair of voices. A pair of footsteps. It only took James a heartbeat to identify them as Muliciber's and Slughorn's.

"I still don't quite understand why you wanted to do this in private," Slughorn's wheezy voice began. He muttered a spell, and light filled the room. "We had plenty of time at dinner to address such matters."

"We would have bored the other guests. No, I would prefer to iron out the trickiness of the potion in a place beyond the distractions and chatter. It shouldn't take long."

"Well, I'm afraid I won't be of full service to you." A chuckle. "I'm a couple of drinks in, you see."

"That shouldn't be an issue, Professor. As I said, I'm very much into recreational potion making. An expensive hobby, I know, but my parents are more than happy to fund my interests. I became quite fascinated with new developments in the field. Professionals have taken to combining science and magic in making remedies, as I discovered after a trip to St. Mungo's this summer."

James could feel Lily stiffen at that. He considered touching her leg, rubbing her hand. Just to comfort her from the all too vibrant and violent memories. But that would be a mistake, and Merlin knew he had already made far too many of those.

"Oh yes. Potion making is the new frontier in medicine, though most fail to recognize it. What is it that took your interest, Roth?"

"A potion that can recognize the human genetic code. Some healers have subscribed such remedies that can eliminate hereditary diseases by targeting recessive genes that are at the root of the problem."

James squinted at Lily in the dark. She shrugged, seemingly as bemused as he was.

"Fascinating. And you intend to try and brew one of these potions?"

"Well, I don't exactly have the recipe for it. There's nothing on the matter in the library, the subject area's too new. Could you point me some sources? Or a section of school that might have more information?"

"My goodness, Roth, I never pegged you for such the studious type. Give me a week. I'll contact a friend, see if I can get some answers."

"A- a week? I am quite eager to try the potion, Professor."

"A week is the best I can do."

"Of course. Well, thank you. I'll stop by— say, next Monday evening?"

"I'll do what I can."

"Brilliant. Have a wonderful rest of the evening, Professor."

"And you, Roth."

The lights flickered out as the two exited the room.

Lily tumbled out of her spot under the desk rather ungracefully. "Never—again," she said through her teeth, clambering to her feet to bat at the creases in her dress. "My back won't feel the same for weeks."

"Why, Evans, it appears you possess the same flair for melodramatics that I so relish."

She appeared nonplussed by his cheeky grin. "That is the one area I will allow you to remain uncontested in."

"Life isn't a competition, Cherrytop."

"But if it was…" She accepted one of her high heels from him and wrestled the strap over her skinny ankle.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I would win."

Lily popped a hip. "Oh really?"

He scrambled out from under the desk so that he towered over her tiny frame. "Really."

There was silence for a moment as they both raised their brows at each other, waiting for the other to break first.

Lily finally dropped her gaze to the heel in his other hand. "Uh, Potter, you can drop the lady's shoe now."

He twirled it once on his finger. "I've actually grow rather attached to it."

She snatched it from his grip and buckled it onto her other foot. With the assistance of the heel, the top of her head reached the bottom of his nose instead of his chin.

"I'm impressed. Most blokes don't admit to their subliminal longing for femininity."

"Only masculine men admit to their femininity, Evans," he said as they walked to the exit together. Her bared shoulder touched his for a moment, but if she noticed, she didn't inch away.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

They paused at the door. "What happens now? We just go back to dancing? Pretend that we're not going to sneak into Slughorn's office on Monday night?"

"Something like that."

"Something like that." Lily shook her head. "This is ridiculous."

"This is life."

"Well, life can go kiss my shiny—"

What exactly Lily's life could go kiss James never found out. At that moment, the door creaked open again with a bewildered Ryan Lewis on the other side.

"Lily!"

She spluttered at the sight of him. "R- Ryan! I thought I told you to wait—"

"I did. For the first thirty minutes. And then I thought I'd go find you. I thought I heard voices—"

He turned, and froze, seeming to notice James for the first time. And then his expression hardened, until there was no expression at all. "What the hell is this, Lily?"

She was biting her lip, shaking her head desperately, and James felt like throwing up.

"It's not what it looks like Lewis," he said hoarsely, since Lily appeared at a loss for words.

"Yeah? And what does it look like, exactly?" Ryan took in his girlfriend's hair, snarled from her run through the corridors. He took in James's collar, hanging askew from his cramped quarters under the teacher's desk. He took in the empty classroom, and Lily's wrinkled dress, and his Adam's apple bobbed with a deep swallow. "You gave me the slip to go slutting around with James Potter?"

Lily's eyes were glassy. "God, no, I didn't Ryan, I promise, I know it looks bad but you have to believe me. Say you believe me. I can explain everything, right now, or later, or whenever, but you have to believe me." Her voice cracked on the last word. Ryan didn't make a sound. "Say you believe me, Rhys!"

"I don't know what to believe," he said, voice low and tight. He scratched his jaw. "I don't know how you're planning on explaining this, Lily. It better be good."

Three tears leaked down her rosy cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Ryan. Stay and hear me out."

He shook his head. "I can't do that right now."

And he walked away, leaving Lily Amelia Evans clutching her chest where the sobs were collecting.

I find it a bit odd—

they all blamed themselves.


	6. Masked Ball, Part II

Chapter 5

Masked Ball, Part II

"Brilliant," Lily Amelia Evans said, shoving a tear off her cheek with her wrist. "Bloody brilliant. What better way to make amends with your boyfriend than to get caught in an abandoned classroom with another bloke?"

"I'm so sorry, Evans," said James. He thrust his fingers into his hair. "This evening has really gone to hell, hasn't it?"

She laughed through her tears. "You're telling me."

"You want me to walk you back to the common room? I don't think this party has much left for us."

Yes. "No, I can't do that. If Ryan saw us—"

"Right. Merlin, I'm so dumb."

"No, I was. If I had been upfront with Rhys from the start, none of this would have happened."

"Why did you keep our operation a secret from him anyway?"

"I dunno. He's always worrying about me, you know. I guess I didn't want to add another thing— wait." She stomped right up to him and his stupid, thoughtful expression. "I don't have to explain anything to you, James Potter."

"But you just did."

"You don't have to sound so smug about it," she said, shoving him, because it felt good to shove something right now.

"It's not my fault I'm easy to talk to. Hey, I've just got one of those faces." He froze and smiled toothily to prove a point.

James's most coveted secret:

He was actually a complete dork.

"Not now, Potter," Lily said, pacing back and forth. "I've got to think of how I'm going to fix all of this."

"You think Lewis might have returned to the party?"

"Yeah. He always has to finish what he starts."

"I refuse to think of that in a sexual manner."

"You just did."

"Dammit."

"Do I go back, then? Try and reason with him? Or do I give him space? Let him sleep on it? Do I just sit here and wait until he comes to me? Do I apologize? Or does an apology make me sound guilty?"

Lily swiveled on her heel to where James stood against the wall, one long leg crossed over the other. "Well, are you going to stand there in silence or help me?"

He picked at his nails, seemingly disinterested. "I'm sorry, but I can't follow you, Chers. One second you're giving off the distinct impression you don't want to talk to me, then you demand my aid."

"I'm pulling my hair out here! If you were my boyfriend, what would you want me to do?"

"If I was your boyfriend," James said in a curt voice, "I would have drowned myself in the Black Lake by now. No way could I put up with those nasty mood swings of yours."

Lily smirked, thinking about a certain relentless fifth year she did not miss in the slightest. "Oh come now, Potter, we both know that's not exactly true."

He rubbed his chin before shooting her a weary look. "All right. I had a phase, okay?"

"A five year phase," Lily muttered under her breath.

"That I have conveniently outgrown just in time to offer myself as a partner in crime and official relationship counselor."

"Aw, shut up. I really need a boy's advice, and—"

He lifted his face to appraise hers. The darkness of the corridor, combined with the light from the torches, illuminated a fine shadow of scruff along his jawline.

"Yes?" James chuckled.

"And you're a boy," Lily finished lamely. Merlin, she must be tired.

"Thanks for the reminder. Fine, I'll humor you. If I was your boyfriend, and I had just walked in on you and another highly attractive male—"

Lily rolled her eyes excessively for his sake.

"—I would want an explanation, as soon as possible, so that it wouldn't look like you had taken the time to come up with a good excuse. I would want answers. And I definitely wouldn't want to hear that my girlfriend and said highly attractive male had been conversing long after I had stormed off."

Lily suddenly felt very small. "Right. Right, what am I thinking? I have to get back in there."

"As your official relationship counselor, I would certainly endorse that action."

"Alright. So how do I look? Presentable?"

She was well aware of the splotches on her tear-stained cheeks, the smear marks that were collecting under her eyes, the frizzy mess that must be her hair.

"You look ready," came James's firm answer, better than any she was anticipating.

"That's what I needed to hear," Lily said, inhaling deeply. She wiped her eyes a final time, twisted her hair in an effort to contain it, and nodded once at James. "See you, Potter."

She moved to leave, then turned back to address his silhouetted frame. "Thank you."

"Any time, Evans," he said softly.

Three scents that hung in the air long after she left:

Lily's lavender perfume

James's nervous sweat

A new smell entirely, the smell of the two combined.

At exactly 11:32 PM that night, James Jonathan Potter cursed his best friend's name to that the lonely corridor. You were right, Sirius, he thought contritely. This friendship business with Lily Amelia Evans was taxing stuff. It was one thing to pretend— easy, even— but then she had to go talking about boyfriends and asking how she looked and remaining absolutely oblivious about the fact that he had done anything but moved on from her.

This is the way it has to be, he told himself. Friendship or nothing, James Potter.

Pick one.

He didn't follow Lily back inside right away. It would look bad if they both entered together, and he knew that Alice was wanting some time to try and entice the seventh year she had a shameless crush on— Frank Longbottom, that was his name. And so he waited, flicking a little ball of light off one wall and onto another, attempting for the life of him to comprehend how someone could feel so completely wonderful and miserable in the company of another at the same time.

James wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting when he reentered the ballroom, or what for what he was hoping. Either way, he was greeted with a dancing Lily Evans and Ryan Lewis on the outskirts of the cluttered dance floor. They didn't grip each other closely like some of the other couples in the room, but held the other at arm's length, talking intently.

Lewis would believe her in the end. James was convinced of it. Every man in with half of sane mind would make himself believe the excuse of a girl as captivating as Lily. Even if they knew it in their hearts to be false.

"Lucky bastard," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Alice appeared at his arm with a bright grin on her face.

"Just an overdose of teenage angst."

She wrinkled her nose at that. "You need a drink."

"But don't I?"

Alice drummed on his chest once or twice. "Wait right here. Frank's of age— he can't be banned from drinking on school grounds. I'll see what he can do."

"I take it your pursuit of the hunky seventh year is going well?"

Her cheeks brightened. "We'll see, I suppose." She followed his gaze to where Lily and Ryan stood now, linked by their hands. "I don't know what Lily sees in that one."

"Alice, I'm fine, honest."

"I'm just saying!"

"Alice."

"Okay, I'm leaving. I'll try to find us something stronger than champagne at this bore of a party."

"Find Sirius bloody Black while you're at it."

She blew him a kiss and scurried off across the room.

Lily wasn't entirely successful in her quest to regain the trust of her boyfriend. He seemed to have accepted her story, but there was an element that still troubled him.

"So you're partners now? You and James Potter? And I'm just supposed to let you two frolic about the school, solving mysteries together?"

"You can join if you want, Rhys. We're doing what we think is best for the school."

"What would be best for the school would be reporting all this to Dumbledore."

"Not yet. Not until we have proof."

"We could at least warn Slughorn."

"No. We need his reactions to be pure when he talks to Muliciber. We can't let the Death Eaters know we're onto him."

Ryan took a step back. "That's not it, is it? You're getting off on this, aren't you?"

"What?" Lily narrowed her eyes. "Of course not."

"You like the adventure. The puzzle. I bore you, and then James Potter shows up with these crazy ideas, and suddenly you want part of it."

"You think that's really what this is about?"

"Do you deny it?"

Lily wretched her hands from his. "You're missing the complete point of it all, Ryan! I like feeling like I can help. Like I actually stand a chance against this cult scare, against the Death Eaters."

His lips were a fine line. "I don't believe you."

"I know I've asked so much of you tonight," she said gently, "but just need you to have faith in me one more time. Let me do this, Ryan. I need to do this. There are bigger things at stake here than just you and me."

"No."

"No?"

"No, I won't allow it, Lily. You've changed since summer. Don't try and deny it. We both know what this little mission is doing to you."

"Enlighten me, Ryan."

"It's turning you into one of them. One of those stupid Marauders. If you hang around them long enough, that's what you're going to become!"

"Maybe that isn't such a bad thing!" she shouted.

"Fine, then! Go date them instead!"

"You don't mean that."

"I won't allow you to keep chasing Death Eaters with James Potter. And if you can't accept that, then I mean every word."

"So what, you're giving me an ultimatum now?" Lily's voice was icy with fury and disbelief.

"Call it what you want."

"I call it selfish," she hissed. "And unreasonable. And controlling."

"Is that you answer?" Ryan's voice was dangerously low.

"I'm doing what I think is right."

"And so am I. I'm calling a break. Until you sort out your priorities." He turned his back on her.

"You're a no-good hypocrite, Ryan Lewis!" Lily told his receding form. "My priorities are right where they need to be!"

"Tell me that again at the start of next year, and you'll lose me for good."

And he stalked out of the ballroom, leaving behind a Lily Evans who was well beyond any form of tears.

For better or worse, reader,

this marked the beginning of the end

of Lily Evans and Ryan Lewis.

Lily was reeling from Ryan's almost- breakup. Merlin, where were her friends when she needed them? She needed Bex. She needed Mary. She needed Remus, or— heaven forbid, even Potter. Someone. Anyone, as long as they could tell her she was doing the right thing.

Wasn't she?

And there Potter was now, downing some sort of alcohol as he chatted with Frank and Alice. Lily had never gotten drunk before, not really. She was anything but a lightweight, and hadn't invested enough into feeling anything beyond a pleasant buzz. But oh, she needed so much more than a buzz right now.

Numbly, Lily felt herself stride across the floor. She snatched two shot glasses off Frank's tray and gulped one down with a purpose.

"Whoa there, pretty prefect," Frank said uneasily. "You might want to slow down there."

"I'm not sure about that," Lily replied. She downed the next one.

"It didn't go too well, Cherrytop?"

"I've lost his trust completely. It was making him talk crazy."

"He didn't break up with you, did he?" Alice said with concern.

"He might as well have." Lily finished off the second glass and reached for a third.

"Evans, you don't want to do that." James gripped Lily's wrist, hard. She pulled away.

"Just give me tonight, okay?"

"You're an emotional wreck. What you need right now is a good nine hours of sleep."

"You're supposed to be the irresponsible one! You're supposed to tell me I should just forget what a crappy night this has been, while I still can."

Alice shrugged. "She's got a point."

James rubbed his head. "Remus will kill me."

"What Remus doesn't know won't hurt him," Lily said. And this time, when she reached for a glass, James joined her.

I like to think that

They didn't lose themselves in the alcohol that night.

[They lost themselves in each other].

Sirius had disappeared with his little blonde date. Frank had finally plucked up the courage to ask Alice for a dance. And James and Lily sat under the cool October sky, the last ones to linger on the ballroom's outdoor patio. Their backs were pressed against the wall, and the two passed back and forth a bottle of wine Lily had confiscated from a fourth year.

"I never really got stars in the city, y'know," James was telling her. He gestured grandly above them. "Too many other lights. But not here. Here y'get to see them all."

"Hey, I think I see Sirius." She pointed at a brighter light in the vast black and white tapestry.

James snorted. "A family named after stars…what pretentious B.S. I'll never let him hear the end of it."

"You're horrible," Lily giggled.

"No. I'm the only thing that keeps him humble."

"Oh? So who's there…who's there to keep you humble, then, James Potter?"

He didn't say anything. Instead, the boy squinted at the stars, oddly bright in the glow of intoxication. Finally, he replied, "Well, certainly not Peter."

Lily almost spewed her next sip. "Oh Merlin, it was about time someone said it."

He had the courtesy to at least look sheepish. "I try not to encourage him. Not any more, at least. I was pretty stupid for a while there, huh?"

"You're making up for it now."

"How? By helping ruin your relationship with your sugar sweet boyfriend?"

"He's not sugar sweet." She tried her best not to slur her S's. "You're…you're actually more tolerable than he is right now."

"That has to be a first."

She considered that. "No, it isn't. There have always been times, over the years, when…when I've thought…

He turned to her. They were so close already, arms brushing side by side, but she hadn't realized how near his face was to hers. "Thought what?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"No, now you have to say it."

"I—" Lily began, then shut her mouth. "I don't even remember what I was saying." James' eyes darkened. "What? I honestly don't."

James withdrew his head. "God." He scratched his forehead with two uncoordinated fingers. "No. I'm not doing this. Not again."

"Oh, c'mon, James. What do you want me to say?"

He bowed his head, making his dark head of hair dangle over his eyes. "There's a reason I pursued you for as long as I did, Evans. And I think you know it."

"No, I don't!"

"Yes you do!" He lifted his head, along with an accusing pair of eyes. Lily squirmed under his gaze. "I kept asking because I knew there was a part of you that wanted to say yes. Don't try and deny it!"

"I dunno why we have to argue about it now." She was too drunk for this, and he was too, but Lily couldn't bring herself to leave. "What's past is passed."

"Is it?" She could feel the heat emanating off of James' body. She could nearly hear the pulse thrumming in his blue veins. His voice was so quiet that she could scarcely hear it when he said, "Look me in the eyes, Lily Evans, and tell me you don't feel a thing. And I promise I will leave you be for the rest of your life."

"James." Lily's voice was hoarse. She was breathing heavily, for some reason beyond her. The room was spinning and her head was pounding— or was that her heart? She wasn't quite sure— and his face was all shadows and light, and suddenly she was tangling her fingers in his hair and kissing him on his open mouth. James made a sound against her lips before his hands were on her body, pulling him closer to her, until space was a concept beyond Lily's comprehension. He kissed her fiercely, without regard for delicacy or restraint. He kissed her like a man dying of thirst, and she was a cool stream of water.

Except Lily did not feel cool in the slightest. Everywhere his lips touched her was fire— her cheek, her jawline, her neck. His teeth dragged against the skin at her clavicle, and she gasped aloud. He paused for a heartbeat, chest heaving as he lowered his dark eyes on her. "Don't you dare stop," Lily growled. James began to chuckle, but she cut him off with another kiss, hard and reckless in her drunken state, one that he gladly deepened. He hooked a hand around her leg, pulling her up onto him, cursing under his breath when a familiar voice sounded at the door.

Lily looked up to see Sirius Black standing agape in front of them.

"Alice said— I didn't realize— I'm sorry, I'll come back later—"

She pushed away from James, neck betraying her blush. "Oh, Merlin, I shouldn't have…"

He stood up quickly, perhaps too quickly, swaying from the effort. "No, I shouldn't have. You're drunk, I'm taking advantage—"

Sirius's eyes were nearly as wide as his owl's. "Did this really happen?"

"I don't feel too well," Lily heard herself say. Her body felt funny— detached, almost, like in her dreams from time to time.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Later, she would remember vomiting into the planter, and someone carrying her to the common room, and then nothing at all.

I hate to disappoint you, reader.

It was not a kiss in the rain.

But it was a kiss under the stars

[And drunken or not, that has to count for something].


End file.
